Sometimes, the urge to self-harm comes over me and the need to find a razor and cut myself intensifies by the second. I've cut myself before, repeatedly, and it used to be a daily task because at that time, I was going through depression and cutting seemed to be the only way I could "release" some of the pain. It got so bad, that I realized I couldn't go out in public without someone asking me what had happened to my arms due to the bruises on them. Eventually, I got over it. At least I thought I had, but as it turns out demons from the past don't really go far. They just wait for the right moment to strike. My biggest fear in life is becoming a failure and lately, that fear has grown marginally because I'm yet to accomplish all the things I thought I would by this time. I write fiction and I try to use words as a coping mechanism but it doesn't seem to work this time and I'm really trying hard not go back to that dark place again, I really am but I can't.

2 replies

Hello mate, i have no encouraging words for you. I am an equally lost hopeless soul, i just related with that line "demons from the past don't really go far, they just wait for the right moment to strike." its true for me as i am fighting the second season of crippling depression and this time its gonna knock me out and I'm okay with that. as for being a failure, i wont even wait for that to happen, i am 100% sure that my life will end by suicide soon. i no longer find relief in drugs, being under the sun just makes me puke, whenever i see myself in the mirror, i just want to get hold of that neck and strangle it with all my might. I will die a shameful death and i have come to terms with that, its better than pretending I am strong and happy while inside I am bitter with the idea of existence, being human, deep down I know i am a weak underachiever, a disappointment, a disgrace.

As much I've thought about suicide before(and it's a lot of times) something keeps pulling me back. Most of the time I just look at the picture of my parents and siblings I have tucked inside my wallet. I keep on thinking what would happen to the smiles on their faces when they woke up and found my dead body. That pain always makes me rethink and so I resort to cutting, seems safer that way. I think everyone's fucked up in one or another and despite putting on a brave face every time we wake up, there's that little thought at the back of our heads asking if any of it is worth it. Waking up. Going through the same motion and routine everyday. Go to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. You sound like a strong person because even articulating what you just wrote takes a lot of guts. Maybe there's a reason why you saw my post and it related to you. I'm not going to lie and say everything will get better eventually because quite honestly, it doesn't. The whole "everything gets better with time" is a rip-off most therapists use. In fact, this whole reply feels like a fucked up tangent of fucked up advice(I'm so sorry). I guess what I'm trying to say is suicide never an answer to a problem and never will it be. It's just a painful ordeal you'll go through until eventually life drains out of your body. I know it may sound hypocritical considering I'm a cutter but it's the truth. I have this philosophy in life, that I'm going to get revenge on life itself. Again, fucked up, I know. So from one fucked up person to another, don't kill yourself please. We can have revenge on life together, how does that sound?